Well, I sat down at my machine today and decided to go ahead and start sewing the Kaffe Fasset outfit for Savannah rather than my dress. What can I say? The machine was already threaded for it. I thought it would go quickly and smoothly seeing as I've already made the outfit once before (McCalls 5308- The Blues) and I'm using an easy to work with fabric. All did not go as well as planned. The highlight of the evening was after I sewed the bodice to the lining, with the ruffle and straps sandwiched in between, and had graded the seam allowances, and went to turn it right side out. I discovered I had sewn the straps to the center backs of the bodice rather than over by the armholes where they were supposed to go. For a moment I seriously thought about screaming. I started to put it down and walk away. You know... cool off and come back to it later when I was calm and refreshed. Somehow, I just can't do that. I have to fix it now. If I try to lay it aside for later it will either a.) bug the living daylights out of me until I go fix it, and that defeats the whole purpose of trying to go calm down, or b.) it will become a UFO, possibly forever. So the only thing I could do under the circumstances was fix it right then and there. I'm happy to report that it's all right now, and the top will be finished soon, possibly even tomorrow.
This little sewing glitch reminded me of another, even worse experience I had years ago. I must have been about 14 years old and I was making my own Easter Dress. It was made out of what was then, to me, a gorgeous polyester knit the color of lime sherbet with tiny white dots. (This was in the early 80s.) The dress had a full bodice gathered onto a wide round yoke, 3/4 length cuffed sleeves and a dropped waist. It had a seperate wide sash made out of the same fabric which wrapped around my waist and cinched the dress. It was almost finished. I was pressing the yoke, when I smelled something burning- not a good thing when you are using an iron. I snatched the iron up and sure enough, there was a big brown scorch mark right on the front of my Easter Dress. It may have even been melted a little, I'm not sure. The trauma has clouded my memory. My mom came running in to find out what all the cursing was about. That was the first, and only time I remember cursing so that my mom could hear it. At least until after I was married and had kids of my own. Mom was real sweet about it. She blamed it on the "old" iron and tried to make me feel better. After a while she left and I just sat on the floor looking at that horrible scorch mark and wondering how I could have done that and what could I do about it. Luckily, I had leftover fabric. I carefully picked out the stitching and removed just the front yoke piece. I cut another one and sewed it in and finished the dress. it took awhile to do this and later on when I showed my mom, she was amazed. She told me that if that had happened to her, she would have just thrown the dress away and forgotten about it. She was very proud of me for fixing it. I wore that dress with pride for Easter and to church many other times after that until I realized that lime green polyester knit is not exactly the most fashionable fabric and moved on.
So now whenever I have a sewing disaster, and trust me, I still do, I remember that dress and try to fix it.